Dead Giveaway (Stillwater Trilogy 2)
Page 67Allie didn't think Joe was smart enough to manipulate the situation to that extent. And the mayor didn't have sufficient motivation--did she? Who else wanted Clay prosecuted badly enough to remove Jed's testimony from his defense?
"What is it?" Grace asked.
Allie covered her face and shook her head.
"What?" Madeline prompted. "I know Jed would never do anything to hurt Clay. It had to be a...a crank call or something."
"Or something," Allie repeated. "I have a feeling someone's trying to get Jed to change his story."
"He wouldn't do that," Irene said. "He tried to confess to Barker's murder so Clay wouldn't go to jail."
"Do you know why?" Allie looked squarely at Irene for the first time since she'd arrived.
"No. No one ever knows why Jed does what he does. But he's proven his loyalty."
Grace picked up where her mother had left off. "Exactly. So what could they threaten him with that would be worse than what he's already risked?"
It's amazing what some people will do...
Fowler had seemed almost...disgusted when he made that statement. Why? Was he referring to what he'd tried to do to save Irene and her kids from harm?
Allie dropped her hands. "We're probably okay, unless...Is there any reason he might be angry with you, Mrs. Montgomery?"
Irene straightened the ruffle on her purple blouse. "Me? Of course not. I rarely see him, and we usually don't speak when we do bump into each other."
"He's painfully shy with women," Allie said. "But he had to be trying to protect you when he confessed. I can't think of any other reason he'd do what he did."
Irene gave a little shrug. "I have no idea why he'd care about me. We hardly know each other."
"Could it be that he's admired you? From afar?"
"So you've had no argument with him? You've never done anything that might make him feel angry or disaffected?"
"Like what?"
"Like being seen with another man?"
Irene's eyes flicked toward Grace. To Allie, it seemed that they were filled with sudden fear, as if something had just occurred to her. But she didn't say what it was. "No, nothing."
Chapter 17
"I might have made a mistake."
Those were not the first words Clay wanted to hear after spending twenty-four hours in jail.
Especially from Grace.
He took the seat provided for him in the small, windowless room set aside for attorney-client conferences and regarded his sister. "You look great," he said. "How's the baby?"
"Good." She bent closer. "Did you hear me?"
"Did Lauren come home from the hospital with you?" he asked.
Grace gave him an impatient scowl. "Yes. She's doing fine. I'm doing fine. The weather's been unseasonably warm. Listen, we don't have very long. Would you please focus on the reason I'm here?"
He stretched his legs out in front of him. "You have a brand-new baby. You shouldn't have to be doing this right now."
"You shouldn't have to be doing it, either," she said.
" I don't have a choice."
"What's there to say? You'll try to get the trial moved someplace else, where I'll have a better chance. The other side will contest it, but the judge is Mayor Nibley's uncle, so they'll win.
Then you'll have to fight to get a few jurors who won't say, 'Roast him,' before they've even heard the testimony or seen the evidence, and--"
"I hired Allie to help me investigate," she interrupted.
Slouching lower in his seat, Clay pressed his thumb and finger against his closed eyelids.
Okay, so this was the mistake. "What were you thinking?"
"I wanted someone who was talented and capable, and who was passionate about defending you."
"Granted, that doesn't leave you a large pool of people to draw from. But there're always strangers. You know, professionals who hire out?"
"She is a professional, Clay."
He wanted to remember Allie the way she'd been at the cabin, didn't want her mixed up in the mess that was brewing. If she joined forces with his sister, her father would never forgive her.
Neither would a lot of other people in Stillwater. And what was the point? What difference could she really make? The trial wouldn't be fair in the first place. "I don't care. You can't involve her."
Grace fiddled with the pen she'd taken out of her briefcase, then tossed it on top of her blank legal pad and shoved back her chair. "It's too late. She's already involved."
"Aw, hell. Grace--"
She put up a hand. "Let me finish. When she came over last night, Mom and Madeline both--"
"Mom?" Clay echoed. "Grace, Mom's not strong enough to handle this right now. You have to tell her it'll all work out and exclude her from any conversation that isn't entirely optimistic."
"I realize that. But after they arrested you, it was all I could do to stop her from marching down to the police station and confessing."
"I explained that. But she's frantic. I have to include her."
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He didn't like being locked up. He'd been limited before, but at least he'd had his work and his cars and an occasional trip to town. In here, it felt like all hell was about to break loose and he wouldn't have the chance to fight back. "I suppose Madeline wouldn't let you exclude her, either?"
"Of course not. They're worried about you. They have to feel as if they're helping."
"Which only makes your job harder."
"When has dealing with our past ever been easy?"
He sighed. "True."
The door opened, and a deputy poked his head in. "You okay in here, ma'am?"
"I'm fine," Grace said.
The man smiled appreciatively at Clay's attractive sister. "Let me know if he gives you any trouble."
"Get out," Clay snapped.
The glitter in the deputy's eyes suggested he was going to respond, but Grace quickly moved between them. "Please, you're not helping."
"Your client had better watch his step," he growled, but he closed the door.
Grace waited several seconds, then picked up where they'd left off. "Anyway, Madeline thinks she'll be able to help."